


The Disabler

by CaraLea



Category: RWBY
Genre: Coming Inside, Disabler, F/M, Handcuffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 12:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12410430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraLea/pseuds/CaraLea
Summary: Mercury was a fighter. Always had been. What with his father, he'd never had a choice but to fight for survival. Yang was a beast. Her confidence and determination manifested in thoughtless fighting and over-sexualization of her body. When these two forces met, it was fiery, and in that moment, both knew exactly how it would end.After a rigorous test, Yang decides to go to the gym to relax.  Unfortunately for her, Mercury is also there looking to unwind.*trigger warning: Rape*





	The Disabler

Today was test day. All week the students of Beacon had been discussing it, studying until the late hours of the night to cram just one more sentence into their already full heads, to figure out what could possibly help them coming up throughout the horrible experience. Midterms. Even Weiss was caught staying up til near dawn, coffee in hand and eyes in the books.

That didn’t stop Yang from being herself though. She slept until ten minutes before class, when her teammates were freaking out because how was she going to get her hair tamed in time for the exam?? But Yang had it covered. She’d been doing this a long time. 

…

Yang put her arms behind her head, listening to Ruby’s whining. “That question about the Grimm types…that was so _difficult_!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Blake said dully. Yang flicked her eyes to her partner. Blake looked introspective as always, as if she were going over each and every question on the test behind her bangs.

Weiss continued the discussion, showing obvious discontentment for Ruby’s pitter-patter. “You only had to describe the difference between the alphas and the regular Grimm,” she sneered. “Sure even _you_ knew that.”

This was the norm for team RWBY. Bickering back and forth between Ruby and Weiss, Blake thinking to herself, and Yang wishing she were doing something else. Maybe a nice shot of lemon vodka in a mango soda, a blast in the gym with nothing but her fists and a hefty punching bag, and to top it off a short stint in a hot tub. Well at least she could have one of those things.

As soon as they returned to the room, Yang ditched her uniform and put on her gym clothes. Even as she was walking out the door she was still attempting to talk her teammates into coming along. “We can work on your arms only today sis!” But in the end, it was no use. Guess tonight’s trip was going to be a lone trip.

Not that Yang minded lonely. Quite the contrary. As social a bug she was, there was something extra special about solitary gym time. The dynamic of being there by yourself, but not alone, was intriguing in its own way. Yang thought it had to do with the interactions one would have with the other lonely gymgoers. Even though you didn’t know one another, there was a basic camaraderie in sharing the gym. If you saw another benching you might choose to stop and offer services as a spotter, or if you were waiting for a specific piece of equipment you could trade advice with the other person, listening to their techniques and sharing your own. These things just didn’t happen whenever she went with her teammates, maybe because of their obvious closeness or perhaps because it was more intimidating when there was a group instead of a lone person. Still, a chance to go to the gym, even by herself, was not one Yang would pass up.

To her dismay, the gym was almost empty. She would think that any particularly athletic student would need to relax after the exam today in Peach’s class, but apparently they were finding their mickey elsewhere. There were _some_ people. A spare few, mostly headed towards the pools. Yang was not a swimmer. Her athletic nature always led her first to the track, and then without fail to the weights. Especially her arms. To make her arms as strong as possible was a basic urge, like eating. It was especially important for her because her weapons depended on the power of her punch. Core, back, and arms was the way to make her hits most effective.

The indoor track was actually a half-track. So if she wanted to complete a full mile, she’d have to run eight laps. Two miles was sixteen laps, and so on. Today she wasn’t looking to go light, but she didn’t want to stay too long. Two miles then.

By the time she finished her first mile, she knew she was in luck. Most of the people had left by then, with the exception of one girl, who she winked at as she blew past her. That meant that she’d have the training deck all to herself, which was a rare treat she’d never miss if given the chance. All of the precious equipment was hers to use and no one else's, at least when everyone was gone.

When she finished her sixteenth lap, she padded over to where she’d stored her gear, grabbing a water bottle from her gym bag and sipping, not chugging. Thirsty as running made her, she knew it was unwise to take in too much fluid at once, especially after running. It was important to let her body heal as she went, to optimize her own natural strength and skill. In other words, it wouldn’t do to throw up.

While she _sipped_ her water, she let her eyes wander the area. No one was around. By now even the swimmers had disappeared to their own locker rooms, and it struck Yang that she probably wouldn’t be bothered. _Great!_ She thought enthusiastically. Personal training without prying eyes: the best way to get work done.

Deciding to take her time enjoying each station to the fullest, after all she _had_ the time now, Yang started with the kickboxing equipment. There was a beautiful punching bag hanging on a chain. They must have replaced the old one that she’d blown up last week already. _I hope they have the money to replace a second!_ She thought merrily, throwing her first punch.

Every hit sent a shockwave up her arms into her shoulders. She was far used to the sensation, but the severity of it reminded her that she’d have to stretch before too long. Why oh why did she always start without stretching first? It was going to make tomorrow a lot more painful!

“Having fun?” a voice said, making her jump. Yang’s fight or flight instinct was strong, and it _always_ made her fight. She just had enough mind to not take her pent up energy on her unsuspecting viewer, and instead she unleashed a sharp blow into the punching bag, creating a split along the top down to the first letter of the logo on the side.

She turned her head, hair bobbing against her back as she looked to see who had disturbed her. It was Mercury. He was a visiting student from Haven academy. Many of the girls around campus talked about him. Yang did not play into this gossip. He was not unattractive, nor did she think him attractive. She did not feel one way or the other about Mercury’s looks. She also knew that he and Emerald, his partner, were _very_ close, like Pyrrha and Jaune close, and she did not wish to intrude upon anything that she maybe shouldn’t. Every once in a while she was drawn into small-talk with Emerald, but all in all she tried to avoid Mercury whenever possible.

“Whoa,” he said, raising his brows at her reaction. “Calm down. It’s just me.”

Yang panted, looking at him and feeling her heart beat hard against her ribcage. “Can I help you?” 

“I came in to practice,” he responded. “But Em couldn’t come today. I was wondering if you wanted to train together.”

This request was dubious, Yang knew it. But she couldn’t deny a challenge, even one that was shaky at best. “Sure!” she said. “How do you want to- whoa!” she ducked. Mercury had kicked up, his foot swishing past where her head had been just a second before. He grinned at her, showing his teeth. 

Something feral ripped open in Yang. While alarm bells were going off in her head, it didn’t stop her from responding the way she did. For whatever reason, Mercury must have had beef with her. He wanted to _fight_ , not practice. But Yang was okay with that. More than okay with that. It opened up her brutal nature, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The chance to really and truly fight…there was something carnal about it. About the chance to really punch, to really strike. Sending her bare fists into flesh, feeling the resistance of flesh and bone…it was truly exhilarating, beyond what a mere punching bag could do.

“Oh you are so on,” she said, throwing a punch herself, which Mercury dodged.

They danced like that for some time. It was what Yang lived for, the motion of her body against his, the sweat on the back of her neck, the smell of testosterone and body odors. She could feel her own juices wetting her undergarments. In its own way, this kind of thing really turned Yang on. Not in the typical, ‘this is hot’ kind of kinky thing. This was transcendental of that. The mere nature of it got her body hormones running.

Not that she had any feelings for _Mercury_ , oh no! To Yang he was simply a tool, another piece of equipment that was designed for her productivity. In fact, the thought of _him_ actually made it less sweet. When she was done here, she would go back to the changing room showers where probably no one was, and take care of it on her own. Then she would return to her room and get some much needed sleep.

She did not allow her raging hormones to prevent her from concentrating on the fight at hand. Step back, pivot, pivot, parry, throw punch, block, punch, duck, punch…. To Yang’s surprise, Mercury was actually really good. She’d only seen him fight once in class, and he had not done very well. Where did this side of him come from? Pivot, parry, punch, duck, punch. He was pressing his advantage, moving forward and forcing her back. Pivot, pivot, duck. Why hadn’t she brought Ember Celica with her? Pivot, duck, shit.

Out of nowhere, Mercury’s leg came up to meet her chest as she ducked a punch. Already low on energy, Yang felt the wind knocked out of her and she sprawled backwards, head smacking a pipe and back arching over a hump. She’d fallen onto a weight bench back against one of the walls of the gym, next to the pipes that pumped to the men’s changing room.

Completely spent, Yang rested back, staring at the gym lights overhead and contemplating her loss. She was so lost in thought, actually, that she didn’t notice Mercury coming upon her, didn’t see him cross around the weight bench, didn’t catch the spark of light on metal.

It wasn’t until an audible click occurred that her attention was finally on what the gray-haired transfer was doing. She turned her head as if to look up at the boy. “What are you doing?” she asked, and then gasped. A cold pressure mounted her wrist as another series of clicks sounded. With a stab of fear, she realized that she couldn’t move her wrist.

Yang was pinned down, by what she didn’t know. But whatever it was didn’t matter. What mattered was the situation. This was wrong, really really wrong. Not at all part of training or the fight or anything good. She was at the mercy of this reckless mange-head standing over her, looking at her with the same emotions that ran through Yang during a fight. No this was different. This was more intense. There was a crazed look in his eye, and Yang knew that she was entirely at his whim in that moment.

“Okay, you got me,” she groaned. “But is this really necessary?”

Mercury just smirked at her, walking away. Yang wondered what that meant. Was he going to leave her there to be found? Humiliation was better than some things he might choose to do to her. But still.

She lifted her head as best as possible to see what he might be doing. It was no luck. He had walked out of her sight. Her ears strained to catch what he might be up to. She could hear his heavy footfalls, the damn flatfoot, but couldn’t tell where in the room he might be based on those sounds alone. It was too echoy in there to know.

There was a click, faint, almost too faint to hear. Yang couldn’t begin to guess what that was. Then his footfalls were pounding again on the hardwood floor, probably headed back towards her but she couldn’t be sure until she saw him. And there he was, heading towards her with that crazed look again.

“I’m gonna kill you,” she promised. “You’ll regret doing this shit to me.”

“Language,” he said, his head tilting with that same look. Yang decided he wasn’t crazy. That provided eccentricity and the truth was that simply wasn’t the case. This was methodical, planned. He’d obviously thought carefully about this moment.

Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d simply stumbled upon her, alone in the gym, and decided that he wanted to act. Maybe he was quick thinking and smart. There was no way of knowing how it’d come to this. And there was really no point. They were here now. The next move had to be made. It was his make. What would he do with it?

His hand ran up her bare leg, past her hip and onto her stomach. Why did she always have the tendency to buy shirts too small for someone of her stature, to wear shorts that weren’t quite long enough. Yang knew. It was because her sexuality was a major part of who she was. She very rarely every actually had sex. She wasn’t a _virgin_ , but she wasn’t a _slut_ either. In her eyes, sex was a treat. To share her body with somebody like that was something sacred, important. Sure, she enjoyed it. Who wouldn’t? But it wasn’t commonplace.

On that note, she did like to feel sexy. She knew she was. It wasn’t hard to tell by the way some of the others around campus looked at her. From the flashes of eyes under the sunglasses _Cocoa_ to the flush of red on the cheek when she caught Olive staring at her too long. She was _hot_ , that was true. And she _liked_ being hot. It caught people off guard when someone who looked like her kicked ass.

But what good did that indulgence on her own vanity do her now? Certainly nothing. Maybe that was what had caught Mercury’s eye in the first place.

The gray-haired transfer didn’t waste time. He pulled at her shorts while she struggled against him. It was no good. Her underbody was exposed to him. She knew what was coming now and sought to fight it in every way possible. It wouldn’t matter even once it started, because Yang would _never ever_ give in. He had to know that even if he won, he couldn’t beat her. She’d never stop fighting.

He only unzipped himself. Didn’t pull down his pants, didn’t expose his privates, didn’t flaunt his size or anything. Privacy was another thing he could take from her. It was his way of showing Yang who was really in charge here. Not her.

“Oh look,” he panted as he pushed himself into her. “You’re already wet.”

Fuck.

This was embarrassing. More humiliating than being chained to a pole, or than having her hot pink panties exposed. It was the fact that she was already lubricated that really made her curl away with shame.

He did not hold back. It seemed like his goal was not to prolong the experience, or to enjoy her being utterly at his whim. Honestly, it was like pleasure was what mattered most to him, and she was nothing but his tool. Just like he’d been when they were “training” together.

What would happen if somebody walked in right now? Would they help, or would they quietly sneak back out the door, mortified and hoping to never acknowledge what they saw? Yang probably wouldn’t notice them. As silent as she was through the whole ordeal, they might hesitate to rescue her because they mistake it for something consensual. And this most certainly was not. Should she scream? Draw attention to her predicament in hopes she might be saved. 

No. That was not Yang’s style. She didn’t want _rescued_. That would only add to the horror of this experience. She’d rather take the beating, like always, and return home for a hot shower and a nice throwup session if the need be. Then she could stay up all night studying, go through tomorrow on a high of caffeine and, if she could get her hands on it, maybe some alcohol. Not something petty like vodka, but the real deal, like whiskey. Her Uncle Qrow would be proud. Then, by the end of the day tomorrow, she’d be drunk enough and tired enough to sleep dreamlessly. After that she could safely forget about this whole thing.

Mercury’s movements were more erratic now. She thought he might be nearing the end. His face was scrunched up, his eyes shut and mouth in a tense line. His breathing was thick, and mostly through his nose. She could feel his hot air on her face. Suddenly his mouth dropped open, his face relaxed, his motions becoming more steady as he pumped himself through his orgasm.

No. Oh no. Oh _God_ no. She could _feel_ him coming inside her, feel the warm splatter as the hot liquid traveled up her canal and swirled around her cervix. She could smell his cum even as it was inside her. It broke her a little on the inside, although she’d never admit it. This was by far the worst part. He had come _inside_ her, the fucking prick. What on earth did that mean for her? Pregnancy? STI’s? What if he made her sick, _and_ got her pregnant? What would a child of such an unholy union look like or be like?

By now Mercury had finished. He pulled out and zipped up, taking deep steadying breaths. “I’ll just take that,” he said leaning over her. Yang felt the pressure on her wrist let up, and knew that she was free. She tried to sit up but Mercury was still standing over her. When he rose back to his full height, she could see now what he’d pinned her with: handcuffs. He must have cuffed her to the water pipes.

He walked away without looking back, as if he barely considered Yang a threat. Well he was wrong. As soon as she recovered the strength in her legs she’d kill him. Maybe. Or she could avoid him as much as possible, forget that he even existed.

She found the strength to sit up and watched him leave the gym. He paused at the door, pulling the lock open and then unlatching it. So that’s what that sound had been. Finally the door banged shut and she was alone again.

Yang hurried to the shower room, cum dripping down her legs. She didn’t care that she’d forgotten her towel, didn’t care that she would be soaking wet when she put back on her clothes. She just wanted to get the water as hot as possible and hopefully melt her skin off where he’d touched her.

By the time she left the showers, it was pitch black outside. Her scroll was lit with unread messages, mostly from her teammates: When are you going to be finished? Do you want to get dinner? Are you okay? Do you need anything? Yang?

Quickly she typed out a reply, before they could come and check on her. **_Sorry guys. I was really into my workout, and didn’t check my messages. I ate at the café here. I’ll be back soon._**

Hopefully that would be enough to subdue them.

Yang ambled on her way back to the dorm. She didn’t want to take too much time, but enough to get the smell of cum out of her nostrils. The shower couldn’t erase the memories of those sensations. She only hoped she’d scrubbed thoroughly enough to remove any possible side-effects of his poor decision to come inside her.

By the time she got back, she was ready for bed. Fuck staying up studying. There was no vodka to go around and she knew that Cocoa would probably have a bowl or something she could smoke later if she felt like it. Yang wasn’t a smoker but tomorrow she might need it.

Instead she closed the door behind her quietly, not wanting to wake her already sleeping teammates. Good, no explanations needed. They were by now far used to Yang’s excuses for staying at the gym too long to really question why she’d been out so late and skipped dinner. So it was really simple, actually. Throw on her PJ’s, climb into bed, put her earbuds in and turn her music on full blast. Death metal would probably do the trick 

Of course, she didn’t fall asleep right away, which was unusual of her. She’d be tired tomorrow. No one would ask questions; Yang was always tired. But that was okay. Laying and listening to death metal on full blast was close enough to sleep to wipe her thoughts away, if only for this one night.


End file.
